[pomegranate]

Joining late
Quinoa padded through the grass, as silently as she could manage. Her white tail swayed behind her, rustling the growth of the meadow. She was nearing the abandoned school house now, and she smelled lots of fresh scents. It must be a rest stop, she thought. Although it seemed like visitors were here, scents of danger and authority ran thick with the smells of fear and blood. Quinoa briefly thought of turning back. It could be a lone rouge, one that attacked. Worse, it could be a pack of rouges. She approached the crumbling brick walls, hearing mews and hisses from inside. She had no idea if any cat was outside. The last thing she needed was an encounter, or a fight. But if they forced one, she was ready to give it.
The beautiful shecat slowly approached, her nose twitching harshly from the mingling scents. Kittypet, rouge, loner, and even a clan cat were all here. Quinoa hissed. She had had more than one fight with clancats. They had some moves, but didn’t think outside the box too much. She soon saw cats come into view.
A handsome burly tom was standing above a small cat, the clan cat visitor. A shecat was standing near them, not too close. The tom was a silver cat with a white underbelly. He was covered in scars and an open wound. He was arched menacingly, but had a strange warmth in his eyes that was different.
Quinoa couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she figured enough out that the large tom was dealing with the kit. The golden cat was looking on, watching.
Quinoa began to turn away from the cats. These cats were a group, and they looked strong enough to kill a fox. Quinoa didn’t want to get on their bad side. She soon heard the toms voice raise, and Quinoa paused, pricking her dove brown ears. If only she could get closer...